Remorse,Repairs,and Acceptance
by Dark SpellMaster
Summary: When a visitor comes to the Malfoy Manner a few months after the Battle of Hogwarts Draco Malfoy's life gets changed as he has to deal with the events that unfolded during his seventh year and come to terms with his actions. Can a new friendship help repair the damages done and help him accept the future, or will his remorse drive him to dwell in the past? [Draco and Astoria]
1. Chapter 1: Tainted Mark

**_Remorse, Repairs, and Acceptance_**

**Copyright:**All characters of Harry Potter are solely owned by J. K. Rowling.

**AN:** _To Mrs. Rowling, thank you so much for giving us seven years of Harry's life, I hope that fans will enjoy this story as a continuation of what happens after the __Battle __and Defeat of Voldemort. Please enjoy and reviews, good or bad, are welcome._

_A warning Deathly Hallows spoilers are in this story, so if you're not done, please do not read any farther and finish first. _

_Subsequently any information from Pottermore will be applied to this story in regards to various characters. _

_**Edit:**__ Given the time that this was last put up I had to take this down and redo most of it. Story will have changed some to be more faithful to the additional information that came from Ms. Rowling herself and the Pottermore site. To previous readers thank you for your reviews before, I apologize for taking the original down but I needed to fix it. _

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_**Chapter One: Tarnished Marks**_

From where he stood Diagon Alley looked nothing like it had the first year he had attended Hogwarts. Silent and desolate, it had only been three weeks since the court proceeding in the Wizengamot, about a month since the Battle at Hogwarts, and a week since he had been allowed out of the mansion. Unlike his parents for whom the court gave what they felt was a lenient sentence, Draco was virtually exonerated for his actions. Thanks to Potter and his friends, and to his father for providing evidence of fellow Death Eaters that had gone into hiding, Draco was a "Free" man, or as free as anyone who had been associated with Voldemort could be.

_Potter_, the name held a different meaning for him now. At one time he despised the young man with the lighting scar on his forehead. He'd been jealous, not of Harry, (well not that much), but of his friends. He'd chosen a boy like Weasley, a boy that seemed as simple minded from a lower class wizarding family, and a muggle-born, Granger, as friends over him. Draco did not want to admit it back then, but it had hurt. It wasn't so much that he wanted to prove something, but he thought that being with Harry would give him something more then what he had with Crabbe and Goyle. There was a difference there, a sense of comradery that, previously, he had not understood until things were going terribly wrong. Potter's friends stuck by him, they didn't just want to be friends because of blood, wealth or even status. No, their friendship had been struck by something wholly unique. Respect, admiration, and love, something that neither of his supposed friends had really ever given him.

Goyle and Crabbe were part of the inner circle and that was the way his father had wanted to keep it. Draco had been exclusively fond of either of them in a certain way. He knew them as friends, or more accurately, subordinates who did as he said and were willing to play along as long as they had fun. They weren't idiots, at least not most of the time, but they weren't the brightest candle in the candelabra.

_And what did those two go and do?_Draco thought bitterly as he walked down the street, past some boarded up shops with notices on them that announced that they would be reopening soon. _Nearly got me killed, and Crabbe killed himself. Stupid…_

He stared down, blinking. Thoughts of Crabbe mingled in his memories; the earliest times they had met, their first time meeting Potter and the fact that Crabbe had been, un-surprisingly excited to see the boy for the first time, and how willingly it seemed that Crabbe was to follow his every direction. It wasn't until he started to think of how things changed after their fifth year. Crabbe had grown restless, and Draco was realizing more and more how little power he truly had over the two of them. He remembered how Crabbe had turned on him, the fact that he said that they had a more powerful master to serve, and his screams as his spell consumed him.

Crabbe's senseless death weighed on Draco. Maybe if he'd trusted his instinct that it was a foolish plan, or listened to Snape, maybe then people would be alive. But he would never know because he had made his choices and now regretted it.

Heading past Potage's Cauldron shop he glanced at the closed up Flourish and Blott's, and noticed a large sign that kept changing its writing style announcing proudly, "_Closed for Remodeling! Coming Soon! An all new Flourish and Blott's. Grand Opening and Victory Sale!"_

Draco sniffed looking at it. _A Grand Opening Sale? Why am I not surprised they would call it a Victory sale as well._

For most _it was_ a victory, in a way it was for the Malfoys too. They had avoided Azkaban, but they didn't get off easy at all. There was a stigma around the name now, Draco knew it, and felt it. Every day there was more news about Aurors hunting down followers of the Dark Lord, and every day the _Prophet _would mention his father's name in print, reminding people who gave up information, but also that the Malfoy's had been connected to the Death Eaters in the first place.

Draco knew he would not be welcomed, even if it was a public event, the stares and whispers would follow him. That was the last thing he wanted. The less people saw of them, the quieter the talk was, the quieter the talk was the less he had to feel looks of pity, shame, angry and disgust from his fellow wizards as he passed by.

Draco moved swiftly away from the store, ignoring the stares he got from a few ladies that were passing by on the other side. He had to keep a low profile and tried to keep to himself as he walked down the street. His mind was on the choice of words. "Victory Sale!" Didn't these people understand that even if it was a win for them, it wasn't like everyone was celebrating? His family would never get to celebrate, never get to freely be seen in society as people to aspire to. The family's fortune was going to various causes, not only the lawyer they had hired to get him off, but also to restore the house, and help with the restoration of Hogwarts.

He could no longer get exactly what he wanted, he wasn't going to get to finish his last year, although McGonagall had, generously, sent him a letter letting him know that he could study at his house for the N.E.W.T.S. Draco stuffed his hand in his pocket and felt the folded paper. His mother had sent the new Headmistress a letter expressing thanks, and agreed to Draco being tutored by Owl. He didn't plan on actually studying though, what was the point? After everything that happened it wasn't like he was ever going to return to the status that he'd once enjoyed.

He was partly happy not to have to go back to school. Not like anyone he knew would be there. Pansy had said she and her family were moving to France or something of the sort, he hadn't really been paying her much attention, and a few others were going to go out of the country to live with relatives. Goyle was still in the hospital, and the one person he'd heard from, other than Pansy, was Theodore Nott.

Nott was one of the few people that Draco considered an equal. He could converse easily with him, because like Draco during the battle, Nott hadn't really followed the Dark Lord. He wasn't overly vocal against him, but Theodore had never once said anything in favor of him either. He didn't join any of the gangs at Slytherin, he didn't run with anyone, and he certainly didn't stand out. The few people that Draco had seen him hanging around with were a small group of fifth, and one or two sixth years, that were mostly ignored by the majority of Slytherins. They were the outcasts, those who had friends in other houses, and were deemed to be inferior to the rest of the Slytherin house.

The letter from Pansy had been information that he didn't need to know about. How awful the whole fight was, the sad loss of so many of their "friends" parents, and also how Draco was dealing with his imprisonment, as she had put it. He'd read the letter so many times over that his fingers had left creased impressions in the paper.

She didn't understand; Not at all. She couldn't understand it would be impossible for her to know how he felt. How he had struggled when he had been forced to use curses on people that had never wronged him, while Voldemort…no Riddle…stood there watching. He found enjoyment in making Draco suffer, and it made Draco sick. Pansy thought that Riddle had been some demigod, she honestly didn't get it. Being a Death Eater was NOTHING like they imagined it to be. There was no reward in it, just lots of pain and punishment from a mental case.

Draco shuddered in the shadows, he felt cold even though the summer heat was in the high nineties. Memories of the night that Potter and his friends had come into the house, the fight, and the loss of his wand, swirled into his thoughts. The wands, he wasn't thinking at the time when he let Potter take them and that had changed everything. From the moment that he lost the wand to the moment that he made the realization about the whole situation after the fact. Had things not played out the way they had, had he not lost that fight, things would have been terribly different, and the twisted fact was, he would have most likely been dead or suffering something far worse under Riddle's commands.

He was tired of the whole thing, sickened by what he'd seen, what he'd been forced to do. He wanted it to end, but he'd been scared. Dumbledore was right, he was no killer, nor was he courageous. He was just a child trying to act big, playing that he was more than he truly was. Potter, for all his folly and mussed form, was more of an adult then he was. Draco hated to admit it, but some small part of him admired Harry for his courage and strength, and it made him second guess himself.

Years ago he would have thought his problems had been brought on by Potter, now he knew that it was only his own fault. Draco stopped walking and sat by the boarded up ice cream parlor. Tables had been placed out and Draco took a seat. Rumors of Florean Fortescue having hid out in Italy and returning in time for the rush to Hogwarts were running ramped. Draco wondered what it would have been like to be on the run. Could he have made it? Would he have survived?

"Probably not," he muttered to no one and crossed his arms letting out a slow breath. Leaning back he looked up at the hazy sky, feeling glad to be outside of the house, and wondered what Potter and his posse were doing. He'd read in the paper earlier that month about the burials of Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin and his wife Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin and Draco had twitched.

While he had never liked Harry's friends, he had nothing against the twins. After all they had gotten the fifth years out of having to take the O.W.L.s , and they weren't ones to hold grudges, or so it seemed to Draco. Lupin had actually been a decent teacher and his wife, well he'd never met her, but Draco had heard that she was the apprentice of Mad-eye Moody so she had to have been quiet powerful.

Their burials had been public events; Snape's had been a private affair due to the flooding of people who wanted to make comments about him. Draco had attended none; he felt he had no right to be there. Had he tried to go he knew he wouldn't be wanted, or more likely he would be ignored by the large crowd.

His mind wandered off thinking about the fact that Fred had only been two years older than him, and in a flash he was gone. Something so quick, one moment there the next, not, and there was nothing to be done about it. No magic spell to bring him back, no way to go back and stop it. Just there and gone in an instant, and only people's memories of him to keep him alive.

He was so engrossed in his musing about this that he didn't hear the footsteps coming up on him. Draco was kicked back to reality when his chair was tipped some by a foot. Jumping to his feet he was quick to shout out.

"Look I don't want to do any bloody interviews. Can't you people just leave me the hell alone?!"

He paused though when he saw a curious young man with sandy brown hair cut to his ears and flipped out, staring at him with a raised brow. He was dressed in a short sleeved green Rugby shirt, relaxed jeans, and converse sneakers. Around his neck was a necklace made of dark rope and shells from which hung a small sand stone with a Chinese symbol. Draco stared at the young man, and sniffed some, trying to regain his composure.

"What…What do you want?"

"You're Draco Malfoy aren't you?" the young man asked. Draco stared at him, scared suddenly.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked in a soft voice. He knew there we're Death Eaters still at large that wanted to make the Malfoy's pay for their actions. Namely his mother; some had realized that she had lied about Potter being dead, others just wanted to punish them for getting off with house arrest rather than being sent to Azkaban. He didn't trust the boy; he didn't recognize him at all.

The boy gave him a slight half smile, his hazel eyes hinting at a laugh, and then chuckled, "You don't know me do you. Nasser Attwood, I'm a year behind you at Hogwarts."

"Nasser Attwood?"

The boy nodded and motioned over behind him to a small shop down the street. "A few of us are hanging out by the snack shop, if you'd like to join us."

"I'm not…" he looked at Nasser who was glancing over his shoulder at a stringy boy that Draco recognized, Theodore Nott.

"He's with you?" Draco asked and Nasser nodded.

"He's the one that saw you, well no, Elysia saw you."

"Who?"

Nasser lowered his brow, "My sister, Elysia, she's in Ravenclaw."

Draco had no idea who this girl was but he nodded his head slightly, just to comply and started to walk with Nasser back to the shop.

"How do you know Theodore?" Draco asked Nasser, who shrugged.

"He talked to me in my second year at Hogwarts."

Draco nodded not feeling up to having a polite conversation with the boy and followed him into the small snack shop. Theodore was standing by a table with about six or seven other people, ranging from first to sixth year; Draco and Theodore would have been the only seventh year there. Draco looked at them, and knew that they were from the outcast group that the Slytherins ignored.

Two boys, who were in their third year, glanced at Theodore and the taller of the two commented, "Theo, what's he doing here?"

"Yeah," said a girl with a long ponytail, "After all he's ...well, one of _those._"

Draco twitched, "One of _those_?"

She nodded, and he saw she couldn't be more then twelve. "Yeah one of _those_…you know the ones that ran out on Hogwarts."

He sneered at her, "I ran back in, you brat!"

"Draco," snapped Theodore as the others looked at him. "Nancy…he's not a Death Eater."

"Could have fooled me," said the tall boy, who was pushing black bangs from his eyes. Draco glared at him, turned on his heels and headed for the door. He didn't need this crap, especially coming from the likes of _them_. However a hand grasped onto his arm and he stopped. Theodore was holding him back and gave him a look that said, _'It would be stupid to leave now.'_

"Algar, quit being rude to him, you ran out too," a pretty girl with long blonde hair commented. She was sitting next to Nasser and had the same hazel eyes as he did. She'd draped her ponytail over her right shoulder and was looking at the third year she had addressed.

"Yeah, but some of us ran back in."

"True." Nasser commented, "Right Theo?"

Theodore just nodded and pulled Draco back to the table and shoved him into a chair. He sat next to him and Draco looked at Theodore. He lowered his voice, "What's going on?"

Theodore shrugged some and said in a calm tone, "We're what's left of Slytherin."

Draco blinked and looked around the table. He counted heads a few more had joined them, and, including himself and Nott, there were a dozen students. He glanced at Theodore who again shrugged.

"Where did the others go?"

"Out of the country," Theodore said and shook his head. "Other relatives took them in, some refused to come back. They said that they would rather be on the run with their folks, or who knows what."

"But what does that mean?" Draco looked confused as Alger commented loudly.

"It means that we're the only ones who are going back, or are stupid enough to."

Nasser leaned back in his chair and looked over at Draco. "You don't know what happened do you?"

"Happened?" Draco shook his head. Nasser's smile reminded him of smirks he used to have in his fifth year.

"You know when all the Slytherins rose up to make some statement. I got up because I was worried about this one," he motioned to the girl on his side, who gave him a slight push. Draco figured this had to be Elysia, Nasser's sister, and nodded his head. Nasser sat up and continued.

"Well we got out there, and a bunch of us just stopped dead and looked at what was ahead of us. There were, what…thousands of Death Eaters standing there? And Giants and that crazy Grayback," Nasser stated and Draco flinched some at the mention of the Werewolf.

"So I looked at Michael," he motioned to a young man with short brown hair who raised his hand, "And said, 'You see what I see?' and he said, 'Yeah, a bunch of guys following some freak with no nose and red eyes.' And then we see all these seventh years rushing forward, except for Theodore who just sort of was lingering some, and I said to him, 'Hey Theo, you think this guy should get to say what we do for the rest of our life.' And I have to say Theo's a smart guy, he looks at me and I look at him and the group of us turned and ran back into the castle just when everything went to hell. We managed to find Aberforth Dumbledore and some other older Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and told them that Hogwarts was just as much our home as it was theirs and we wanted to keep it safe."

He smiled at his sister who puffed some proudly like a mother hen, "And who told you that at the start of the year?"

"Yeah, hush," Nasser said as Michael took over the story.

"So then we tried to help to fortify the place, and believe me we're being discriminated against. My own dad won't speak to me because I wound up putting my Uncle Benj in St. Mungo's."

"But it was worth it," Alger commented and Nancy nodded. "I mean, I would rather be considered a traitor to Voldemort, then to be considered a baby killer or something."

Draco stared at them, "So you snuck back in to help? You know what would have happened if you'd all been caught? He wouldn't have forgiven you, you're families would be…"

Draco stopped; he was feeling sick remembering what he'd seen Voldemort do and got up. "I've got to go Theodore. I should have been home an hour ago."

"We know what would have happened," Nasser said and looked at Draco. "But I'd rather have died fighting him then be subject to whatever he was going to do to our world. I mean, you can't tell me you liked what the Carrow's were making us do at the school."

Draco paused, "What the Carrow's did was nothing compared to what I saw okay. So don't go telling me about acting like heroes. You have no idea how he was, so you can sit there acting so smug and proud, but you can't even begin to understand what Voldemort could have done to you."

Elysia looked at him, "Yeah we do know. He did it to my mum."

Draco paused and got a better look at her. He swallowed some realizing that her face looked a lot like that of Charity Burbage and looked away as Theodore quietly said.

"The Muggle Studies Professor was her Aunt, her mum was there the night she was taken and they tortured her, left her for dead. A muggle neighbor heard the screaming and called the police. They found her in the parlor of the house, breathing, but barely."

Draco stood up and looked at her, "I…I'm sorry."

Elysia nodded some, she looked like she was trying to fix her hair but he could see she was trying to wipe her eyes. Nasser looked at him with a look of displeasure. Draco wasn't sure what to say and the silence weighed on him until the girl Nancy asked.

"Are you going back to Hogwarts?"

Draco shook his head, "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why?" Theodore asked and Draco shot him an exasperated look.

"Why? Why?! Think about it Theodore! I'd be a target! People know my family was part of the Death Eaters! People know I let in the Carrows and caused that fight sixth year! The Prophet had a field day with the trial, and who knows if there will be people wanting to get revenge!"

"I don't think they will," commented Elysia and Draco shot her a dirty look.

"And what makes you so sure?! Like you know anything about this?!"

She raised her head, "What? And you think you know? Yes people are still upset, but the people you would really have to worry about aren't going to be there, the Slytherins aren't going to be there!"

"So what?! The other houses will, and they won't forgive me," Draco pointed out. "Not after…not after what I did, not after what I've seen. And I can't bloody blame them, so no, I won't be going back! And if you were smart then you wouldn't be going back."

"We don't have anything to be afraid of," pointed out Alger.

Draco gripped his wand, tightly. "Are you calling me a coward?"

"Well that's one way of putting it."

Draco had his wand out fast and was holding it to Alger, but Michael aimed his at Draco and scowled. "We didn't ask you here to have a fight."

"Don't call me a COWARD!" Draco shouted at Alger. His eyes were lighted with anger, frustration and pain. Flashes of running through the woods with Snape crossed into his mind, and what Snape had shouted at Potter. The man had tried to protect him for his mother, had given his life to protect Potter, had done all that because of Potter's Muggle mother. He didn't understand it, how could a man like Snape feel that intense a feeling for the woman? Would Potter have called him that if he had known the truth? What really was a coward?

He thought of his mother just then, she'd lied to protect him, rushing through the castle looking for him, calling to him. She'd not cared that she looked a mess when she found him, not cared that he was like a child sobbing in fear in her arms. Not like Potter, not like his friends, fighting down there. He had no wand, how could he have fought, but these people, younger then him in some cases, had snuck back to fight and protect the school that they loved.

He lowered his wand and headed out the door. Draco heard footsteps behind him and looked back to see Theodore coming after him.

"I'm not going back in there," Draco told him bluntly.

"You don't have to. Look I'll walk with you home, we can talk."

Draco shrugged, he would have rather gone alone, but at the same time company would be nice. He gave a nod and Theodore told him he'd be out in a minute. Draco watched him walk back in and heard some raised voices. He didn't care; they were treating him just as he'd treated them.

_'We don't have anything to be afraid of_;' Alger's words came back and gave him a chill. Why was he afraid? Potter had testified in his favor; forgiven him in a way, though they hadn't talked, at least not yet. His mother had said that it would be a good idea, at some point, to at least acknowledge that Potter had done him some good. He didn't want to be best friends with him, but she was right; were it not for Potter, not for the fact his flying skills were as great as they were, he would have been nothing but ash.

Draco leaned against a shop window, recalling the nightmares that now kept him up frequently. Moments when he was forced to torture people, moments when the Cruciatus curse was used on him when he refused to kill, flitted through his head, when he felt something brush his forehead and he snapped his eyes open to defend himself. Draco was surprised to not see what he feared, a Death Eater or worse Lord Voldemort before him, but rather Elysia Attwood.

She gazed at him with a slightly perplexed look and lowered her hand. Draco looked as she stepped back.

"Theo said you were out here waiting."

"Yeah," he gulped. Why did she have to do that? He was going to have to get used to the idea that Voldemort wasn't going to come out of nowhere and attack him. But still, Voldemort had managed to live through his first attack, the second he seemed to be good and dead, but he'd come back before and Draco was scared he'd do it again, and come to kill him and his family. "What did you want?"

"To talk," she said. He scowled, what could she have to say to him? He really didn't want to hear about how much of an ass he acted in there, but he nodded expecting something annoying to come out. Instead she asked, not moving her eyes from his "Was her death painful?"

Draco felt his body clench. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about, the last thing he wanted to remember. He looked away from her.

"Don't…Look I really don't want to talk about it okay. I've had to recount it too many times. Testify against others placing them there. I…I don't like thinking about it."

Elysia nodded some, "Dad met with Minster Shacklebolt, and he said that you were there when it happened."

He kept his eyes averted cursing Theodore for not hurrying up. Elysia tilted her head to meet his eyes again and Draco turned fast to avoid her. "Yeah I was. Like I said I really don't want to talk about it."

"I don't want details," she said quietly. "I just…I want to know if he did it fast."

Draco paused and nodded, then saw Theodore coming out. He relaxed some and looked at her. "I have to go."

She nodded as he got up, and was surprised some when her hand brushed his and gave it a small squeeze. Draco stopped puzzled by her action as she wasn't looking at him.

"There wasn't anything you could have done, it wasn't your fault that she got captured, I don't blame you Draco."

She let go then and walked past him and past Theodore who gave her a small smile. Draco saw for a second on Nott's face a small blush but it vanished quickly. He walked over and Theodore motioned with his head that he was ready to go.

"We're going to have to apparate on the road, the Ministry put up a shield around our house, so you can only get near the grounds by walking. And they cut off the floo network, with a few exceptions." Draco explained as he and Theodore headed away from the Leaky Cauldron, it would be easier to disapparate where there were fewer patrons. Theodore nodded understanding and walked along side Draco, his eyes shifting to the taller boy.

"What exceptions?"

"Ministry officials," Draco offered not wanting to explain about the law enforcement wizards that frequented his home. They were making sure the Malfoy's were following the rules of their house arrest. He disliked the smug faces of a few of them; a couple of the officers were actually sympatric in a way. They would listen to his mother and make assurances that when the time was up she could go freely around the city. Draco thought that she probably wouldn't want to though. Not after everything.

Theodore furrowed his brows as they walked, and Draco looked at him. For a moment he felt a small semblance of a smile come on his face, and then shook it off. "What are you thinking Nott? You're not planning on trying to break into the Ministry's floo network to come visit me."

Theodore shook his head, and Draco sighed, he didn't blame Theodore. His father had been captured and was now spending time in Azkaban. Theodore's mother was on 'vacation' as he'd said in his letter, which told Draco that she was probably recovering from a breakdown at St. Mungo's. Theodore was staying with his mother's brother.

"So what then?" Draco asked curiously.

"I was just thinking…we're the last of the Slytherins in our year."

"Yeah," Draco commented, "So?"

"So, this is our chance to actually prove that we're not all like Voldemort."

"And how do you contend to do that?" Draco asked raising one of his fine eyebrows.

"Don't know yet, I'm thinking about it." Theodore said as he and Draco both disapparated. Moments later after flying through the darkness a road materialized and both young men stood still reorienting themselves. Draco started to walk first and he asked aloud.

"What do you know about Nasser and his sister?"

"The twins, why?" Theodore questioned. "They're not bad."

"They're curious aren't they, though," he said pointedly. "Nasser's a Slytherin."

"And Elysia's a Ravenclaw," Theodore pointed out. He shrugged some. "She said she wanted to go there and the hat let her."

"It let her?" Draco asked a bit mystified. "How could it let her?

Theodore shrugged, "Don't know, all she said was that she actually asked it to and it let her choose Ravenclaw over Slytherin. So that's where she went."

"You seem to know them well," Draco said stopping by a narrow lane that lead to the house. Theodore paused and gave Draco a look.

"What are you insinuating Draco?"

"Nothing, I just want to know why you know a sixth year so well," Draco shrugged and Theodore just looked at him. Draco waited as Theodore weighed his choices then said simply.

"Because I chose to get to know him, that's all there was to it."

"And it had nothing to do with the sister?"

Theodore paused and thought this over, "Not really, no; she's good looking, yes, but Nasser's more cunning then he appears. I got to know him because he has a good mind for plotting things. He's quick to figure out ways of getting out of trouble. He's the one that came up with the idea of using the first-years entrance to get back into the castle."

Draco crossed his arms, "Using the first–years entrance? You'd have to swim."

"That's what we did, but you'd be surprised at how many people don't want to touch that lake water."

"Not with the merpeople down there," muttered Draco leading Theodore up the gravel lane to his home.

"It's not like he's my best friend Draco. But he's someone good to have on your side. He knows how to manage things pretty well, and for an almost seventh year he's ahead of most. He's already trying to find ways to earn some extra money to repair damage to the Slytherin common room."

"Damage?" scowled Draco. "What sort of damage?"

"The kind that Dark magic creates," Theodore said with an annoyed look. "Some of the Death Eaters with Grayback got down there and were looting the place and wrecking it. I guess it happened when they knew they were losing and had to retreat. Nasser went down there while everyone was having the celebration. The way he put it, it's lucky that anything is still standing. Someone was angry and wanted to show, I guess, to the group of us that stayed, that we weren't welcome back there or something."

Draco sighed. "Well, not like I'm going back so…good luck to him, then."

Theodore shook his head, "You should Draco."

"What for? To be humiliated, to be treated like a dog, I don't think so, Theodore." Draco snapped as they crunched down the path to the wrought iron gate flanked by two yew hedges. Draco waved his wand and the gates opened for him, allowing both boys to enter the grounds. Albino peacocks strutted around the vast manicured lawn. Vestiges of his family's wealth, or what remained of it, lay in the neat gardens where once he and Theodore chatted while their fathers conversed in the house. It seemed so long ago to Draco, even though it had only been four years.

The front door opened of it's own accord and he walked in with Theodore saying, "I just think that having you come back might show that there are higher up Slytherins that want to return. That we all weren't working for Vold…"

"I _**WAS **_working for him," spat Draco angrily. "I _was_ working for him, Theodore, and people know it. Do I regret it, yes! But I'm not going back there begging to be forgiven. I don't need that Theodore, and neither do you."

"I'm not going there to beg anyone," Theodore said heatedly. "I'm going back to pass my damn N.E.W.T.S so that I can have something to help me get a job to help my mum, Draco. Or have you forgotten that not all of us have your vast fortune to live on."

"You want it, take it," hissed Draco as he walked into the drawing room and sat down on the couch. They hadn't bothered getting a new house elf since Dobby left, so it was up to a hired witch to help them. Mostly though the Malfoy's used their magic to summon things, and Draco had learned how to quickly summon the tea set.

Theodore sat down opposite him, and shook his head when offered a cup. Draco leaned back in the plush Victorian couch and scowled. "I'm not going back Theodore. There is no way."

Theodore paused and stared at him, "Potter's going back."

"So what," Draco said and sipped the tea in a quick gulp. He didn't want to think of Harry Potter. He already owed him and Ron Weasley for saving his life, and Draco knew that in time he would have to repay it. He prayed that it wouldn't be in the same manner that Wormtail had repaid his apparent debt. Draco shuddered recalling how the snake had eaten the small man and left only his big toe.

Memories of events in the house came into his mind and he waved his wand at a large wizard wireless radio to get some music, any music, just for some noise so he didn't have to hear the screams in his head. Draco had begged his mother to get rid of the chair that Hermione Granger had been tortured in as he kept seeing an image of her sitting there screaming every time he walked by. She had finally done it the day that he threatened to set it on fire.

Draco looked at Theodore who was staring at him and it made Draco scowl deeply.

"What you think I'm a coward like they were saying? You think I'm afraid of Potter? I'm not!"

"I didn't say that," Theodore said with a shrug. "You're the one that keeps saying things about being afraid and being a coward, Draco, not me. All _I'm_ saying is that it would say a lot to the other houses if you came back to school. I don't think it'll be like a normal year."

"How would it be different?"

Theodore ticked off his fingers as he spoke, "For one thing, there's not going to be a lot of people going back. I don't see all the old seventh years coming to take their last tests after what happened. I'm sure a lot of them can get good jobs without N.E.W.T.S. Second, it'll probably just be teachers that need to go over lessons with us for the tests and a lot of independent study no doubt. Third, I think it would be good for you to go back and at least to face Potter."

"Why should I though?" Draco coolly pointed out. Theodore shrugged and smirked.

"Why not? What good is it going to do you sitting here thinking about what happened? You said yourself in your last letter to me that this place is driving you mad."

Draco sniffed and drank back more tea. "And you think Hogwarts is going to be different?"

Theodore nodded.

"Why? Because I didn't do things there that I did here?"

"No because there you have something of a diversion. Here, you have none." Theodore noted. Draco leaned back. Nott was right in that the house was driving him a bit mad. His nightmares were becoming worse, and there were several occasions when he woke up in cold sweat screaming for his mother. At the house, she was there to come and calm him down; there he wouldn't have that option. Draco wondered if nightmares were what kept the Potions professor up at night. If it was, then Draco didn't blame him for looking so haggard at times.

He looked at Theodore, and sipped his tea, "I'll think about it okay. I'm not promising, but I'll think about it."

Theodore nodded, pleased at least that he was able to secure at least one person he'd thought of as a friend to come with him back.

Theodore left in the afternoon after lunch. Lucius was his normal engaging self, asking Theodore about his mother and how she was copping. His replies were polite, quick and thoughtful, keeping the older Malfoy at bay most of the time, and not really giving any in depth information to them. Narcissa told Theodore to bring his mother some of the expensive cookies that had been sent by a friend to her, and he had respectfully accepted.

"Can you get back on your own?" Draco asked as he walked him to the gate and opened it for Theodore.

"Yeah I can manage. Just get out near the crossroads and apperate home."

Draco nodded and observed Theodore head out down the narrow lane. He watched until Theodore was out of sight. The sun was starting to set and Draco happened to glance at his arm. The mark had vanished but a scar remained a remnant of his time as a Death Eater. Draco constantly found ways to cover it up, not wanting to see the tarnished mark on his pale skin. It looked like the remained of some sort of skin disease.

Walking back into the house, he saw his parents sitting on the couch, holding one another. His father had his arm behind his mother's neck and was stroking her hair. Neither was speaking as his mother rested her head on his father's shoulder. Had it been another year or another time, the scene would have seemed sweet. To Draco though it was a harsh reminder of the weary toll on his parents; he could see the lines on his father's face, and the slight puffiness to his mother's eyes. He wanted desperately to find some way to gain their forgiveness, but both had said that they were not angry at him, and that there was nothing to forgive.

"He's gone now Draco," Narcissa had told him the day after the battle, "we're just glad you're safe. I was so scared. I love you Draco, I don't want anything to happen to you."

His father had, in his own words, expressed the same thing. That was why he'd given himself up, to of all people Arthur Weasley. Draco had never seen his father so humble, but at the same time he felt a bit proud. Lucius didn't beg, or plead to be spared; he just stated that he was willing to be the first taken in, and to assist in whatever way he could, so long as Draco and Narcissa were given leniency by the Ministry for their actions.

Draco watched them now, and saw how much they had sacrificed to keep him safe and secure. He wondered if it wasn't for his mother and father, would he have ended up like Crabbe. The thought gave his stomach a twist and he silently slipped off upstairs to his room. Shutting the door he went to the dresser where Pansy's letter sat.

Draco picked it up and opened it again. Her hand writing was as neat as ever. Small tight letters for smaller words that gave him very little in the way of comfort, her mind was still set on seeing the Death Eaters as the victims, and not the other way around. He thought of what Nasser had said, about not wanting to let someone decide his future.

_Come visit me_, she asked. _I'm sure you can use time away from your parents._ Visit her? After her comments in earlier letters about his father being weak and that he shouldn't have given up so easily. Visit her, after she had instigated the walk out and had probably caused the death of students their age who had no idea what they were getting into?

Draco glanced at the letter, her words of love meant very little to him now. She didn't understand how much his parents had given up for him, she never would. He closed his eyes, and rolled up the letter. Walking over to the fireplace he flicked his wand, starting a small fire, and prodded it till he felt it was large enough.

He'd write her one more letter, it wouldn't be nice. He'd tell her that he didn't want to see her anymore, that she could never understand what he went through, or what his parents were going through. If she was really his friend she would understand that he'd changed his way thinking of the Dark Arts, and what they meant. That he didn't want to associate with Voldemort, or the Death Eaters. That he just wanted to drop the past, and if she couldn't then he didn't want to associate with her. He'd ask her not to write again, and if she kept sending the letters, he'd just keep burning them till she got the message.

Draco tossed the paper into the fire place and watched it go up in smoke. He absentmindedly rubbed his scar and blinked back tears. Everything was different now; he couldn't look back on fond memories, because there really wasn't any. He wished, somehow, he could burn the mark off his arm, like he burned Pansy's letter, and destroy the very thing that had originally indicated his future.


	2. Chapter 2: Owls and Apples

_**Remorse, Repairs, and Acceptance**_

**Copyright:**All characters of Harry Potter are solely owned by J. K. Rowling.

**AN:**_Plans for the original ideas of this story have been chucked as I've learned a lot more in recent years in regard to the characters. I hope that you will enjoy this updated story. Driscoll is an original character. _

* * *

_**Chapter 2: Owl's and Apples**_

It started when an Owl post arrived only a few days after Draco had gone to Diagon Alley. It was unusual to see a post owl knock early in the morning. Most mail, save the letters from Pansy, had been from owls that worked for the Daily Prophet, or other newspapers hoping to get an interview with his father. They came so often that Draco had learned to recognize these owls by their appearance, this one, a brown tawny barn owl, was a surprise to Draco as he'd never seen him among their number before.

He thought for a moment it had been a personal owl from one of his father's former associates. Most of the Malfoys' old friends feared that they would be caught if they used any bird other than their own, as the former Death Eaters were certain that the Ministry was watching the post in hopes of discovering their locations. So when the owl swooped in that morning on the Malfoy's breakfast, Lucius had grown white as a sheet.

The owl landed before him, sending the once confident wizard back several paces from the table. He looked at Narcissa who looked back at him, her eyes on the letter.

"Lucius were you expecting anything?" she asked in a tight whisper as the owl started to clean its wings. The blonde man shook his head slowly; the owl watched his long hair sway. Narcissa glanced at her son who also shook his head. When the owl screeched Draco dove under the table, and scrambled over to his mother, who'd already moved closer to her husband.

"Then who would send us a post?" she muttered and Draco gave his father a little nudge. Lucius shot his son a look, Draco returned it. Neither really wanted to go up to the bird and retrieve the message, but Lucius, somehow, worked up the nerve and slowly walked over to the owl. The bird blinked looking at him with its large eyes, and then held up its leg, with the letter attached, from which Lucius quickly untied it.

"Thank you," he said to the owl, and Draco passed his father a few coins, which the older man deposited in the small box around the owl's neck. Once paid the owl flapped its wings, hooted, and took off out the open window. Lucius let out a sigh when it was gone and glanced at the envelope with a perplexed look.

Narcissa looked at her husband, who had an expression of slight bewilderment on his face. It moved from rather perplexed, to fully confused, to completely annoyed, all in a few moments. She licked her lips lightly before speaking.

"Lucius what is it?"

"I'm not sure. It has the address of a small hotel in Anglesey," he told her, and showed her the blue inked address. "Do you recognize the writing?"

Narcissa shook her head, and put her arm around Draco who was now peering down at the weather beaten paper. Lucius scowled debating whether or not to open it, but that decision was taken from him when the letter wiggled free from his grasp and flew to the table, opening itself. The three Malfoy's moved forward to gaze down in worry at the paper as words were written magically upon the blank page.

_Dear Lucius,_

_Writing to let you know that I will be visiting on the 25th of July._

_I should arrive by three in the afternoon._

_Hopefully this will not be too much of an inconvince for you and your charming family._

_Give Cissy my love and I hope that Draco is doing well._

_Driscoll MacClellan_

Narcissa blinked for a second then frowned. She stood up, grabbing up the paper from the table, walked it over to the fireplace intending on burning it when Lucius grabbed it from her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, "He's going to be here tomorrow!"

"Are you saying we're going to allow that man in _this_house Lucius?" She looked perturbed. Lucius stared back at his wife with a scowl.

"We really don't have a choice; no doubt he used the post on purpose so that the ministry would see he _was_ coming."

Draco looked between his parents as they bantered back and forth. His mother insisting that if they just burned the letter they would be under no obligation to actually allow the letter writer entry to the manor, after all, she pointed out, how could they know that he was coming when they didn't receive word?

"But we did, I paid for it," Lucius pointed out. "They have a record that we did take the letter."

Narcissa looked disgusted, "You know how I feel about that man Lucius. He's a fool!"

"No more a fool then Dumbledore," Lucius muttered and she raised an eyebrow.

"Are you putting him on par with Dumbledore? He's younger then you are."

"Yes I know, after all he was a first year when you were graduating," Lucius said pointedly and rather flustered. Lucius did not like to be reminded that he was getting older.

"My dear, listen," he stood behind his wife, arms over her shoulders, "We can let him stay here for the night, then make some sort of excuse, expressing regret that he can't stay longer but we need to comply with the rules regarding guests in this house, as per the interment. We _can't_ afford right now to make enemies with anyone. Especially someone like Driscoll," –Lucius lowered his voice some but Draco heard him –"considering his influence with the members of the Ministry right now."

She sighed and nodded, "One night Lucius, anymore and I will personally throw him out myself."

Narcissa slipped from her husband's grasp, waved her wand, and sent the dishes into the kitchen for the witch to wash. Lucius gave a long drawn out sigh. He glanced at Draco who was still standing there looking dumbstruck.

"Don't stand there like a Flobberworm, Draco," Lucius snapped and Draco moved looking uncertain of why his father's temperament had fallen. "Follow me; we need to fix a guest room."

"Need to fix a guest room, but they're all neat." Draco stated following his father up the stairs to the second floor and down a long hall. Lucius sniffed as he waved his wand to move some flowers in an elegant vase to the center of a table.

"He is not staying on this floor," Lucius said bluntly and unlocked a door at the end of the hall that led to a staircase. Lucius threw open the door and Draco flinched; the wood was old and looked like it had not been dusted since the days of his great –great –great grandfather. Draco pinched his nose as Lucius waved his wand muttering a spell. Instantly there was a blast of cool air and the dust ascended the steps, but that did nothing to clear out the musty mothball odor.

"Why are we going up here? And who is 'He'?" Draco asked; his father ignored him, concentrating on gathering up the dust. The younger man scowled as they climbed several stairs in a spiral to the top of a turret on the house. Poking his head through a door, Lucius glanced around quickly, and then slammed it hard against the wall, attempting to send any bugs or mice scurrying out, much to Draco's displeasure.

"Father what is going on! Why are we up here?" he looked about the old tower as they walked in and saw that there was a bed with an old quilt on it, which was in the center of the room. It had none of the elegance of the beds that the Malfoy's slept in. In fact, Draco was certain, that the bed looked like it was sagging in the center and would fall apart the minute anyone tried to lay in it. The carpet below was in no better condition. There were holes the size of Hagrid's feet in it and patches, which once covered the holes, which were now threadbare. Draco wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the image of a ship weakly sailing on the carpet; it apparently needed to be re-embroidered as its mast was cracking. A dresser stood beside the bed, with a mirror that had missing pieces, and a wardrobe that was missing a leg was propped up against the far back wall.

Lucius had already strolled over to the lone window, and thrown it open, sending the dust raining down upon an old bush. Draco crossed over to him and tapped his father on the shoulder.

"Father…what…is…going…on!" he spat looking more annoyed than ever. Why were they telling him nothing? Lucius looked at Draco and waved his wand at the bed, flipping the quilt up and sending it zooming over his son's head. Draco ducked as it soared out the window and shook itself out.

"Your cousin is coming over," Lucius said in a cool voice. "Dust the dresser would you."

"Dust the…cousin? What cousin?" Draco asked as he waved his wand using a charm to clean the dust off the dresser. "I thought I knew all my cousins."

Lucius scowled as he strode over to the bed with the now, slightly fresher, quilt.

"You do, this one happens to be someone that we don't _normally_ associate with."

Draco nodded, and asked in a pleasant tone, which Lucius recognized instantly as one his son used when he wanted to get information, "So who is he exactly? Driscoll McClendon?"

"MacClellen," corrected Lucius, but did so with a wrinkle of his nose. "Driscoll is your grandfather's sister's son."

"Aunt Almira had a son? I thought she only had daughters," Draco raised his eyebrows as Lucius flicked his wand to finish the bed.

"That's what your great-grandfather wanted everyone to believe. She had one, and only one, he's…he's not someone that the family was too happy with," Lucius admitted.

"Why's that?"

"He, like Sirius Black, believes he's too _good_ for this family," Lucius stated and Draco nodded picturing images of Black he'd seen in his mother's photo collection. The boy in the photos was always teasing his younger brother, and seemed to be sticking his tongue out at Draco whenever he looked at the pictures.

"He requested to not be in Slytherin," Lucius commented shaking his head. "Hufflepuff of all places, and he acts like it was the best decision he ever made."

Draco looked aghast. "Huff…Hufflepuff, what idiot would want to go into that house?"

"Precisely what I told him, but he just laughed at me. And, when I asked him what prompted him to want to not follow tradition, he said, of all things. 'Slytherin just isn't my fit, Lucius; I figured I would expand my horizon, find someplace where I fit in.' Then he said something nonsensical about girl's in Hufflepuff being better cooks then girls in Slytherin." Lucius explained to his son, shaking his head. "He's a fool, and we hardly ever talk to him. You only saw him when you were very little, and we invited him to your birthday out of respect for your late Aunt. He was her favorite regardless of what he chose to do. Your grandfather always felt that he lead his mother to an early grave."

Draco nodded, now wondering if having this cousin over was such a good idea. He watched as his father opened the wardrobe to let some air in it, and noticed some old robes.

"His," Lucius said and closed it after a moment. "His sisters sent me these when they were cleaning out Almira's house."

Draco nodded and Lucius noticed that there was a question in Draco's eyes. "What?"

"Well wasn't Almira's last name Blumstein?"

Lucius nodded and headed for the door, Draco walking in his father's wake.

"So why is this, Driscoll, named MacClellan?"

Lucius' back stiffened some and Draco could hear in his father's voice spite.

"Your Aunt, in her youth, made a foolish mistake. She met a young muggle-born wizard while on holiday in Spain. The two had a romance and when she returned home, she was with Driscoll. It took your great-Grandfather months to track the young man down. But he'd apparently drowned off the coast while he was searching for a pearl to send her as an engagement ring."

Draco's eyes went wide, "He's a half blood?"

"That's what your Grandfather told me," Lucius nodded and looked at Draco, "And you are not to tell people of our connection to him. Do you understand Draco? Not…one…word."

Draco nodded slowly and followed his father downstairs, only asking one last question. "Why does mother dislike him so much?"

"Because, when she was younger she and Driscoll were, friendly, but he pulled away from us and she became rather annoyed with him." Lucius said in a tone that implied for him to drop the subject. Draco complied and for the rest of the day nothing was said of Driscoll MacClellan or of his visit.

The following afternoon, at three exactly, the Malfoy's were sitting in the parlor, waiting. Draco was curled up on the couch looking through _Quiddich__Weekly_, while his father sat in an easy chair, eyes constantly glancing out the window. His mother was, for the hundredth time, checking the clock and embroidering some napkins as a gift for her sister Andromeda. She had felt that, while they didn't agree on things, they were the last of the sisters, and at least, should be cordial.

At ten after six Lucius had become fully infuriated by his cousin. The sun was starting to set and casting long shadows over the grounds. The day had been cloudy so twilight seemed to come early.

"Where the devil is he?"

"He's probably at some pub in the town and completely forgot the time," Narcissa said with irony. "You know how he is about being punctual."

Lucius glanced over at his wife, and was about to say something when there was a loud shout out at the gates.

"Lucius, open the gates! They're snapping at me!"

Draco looked out the window and saw a tall man in silhouette, backing away from the wrought iron gates. He seemed to be poking at it with a long stick. Draco looked over at his father who just said.

"Let's wait a bit, shall we. This is rather amusing."

However the man seemed to finally get tired of the gate, and Lucius shoved Draco down as there was a large blast, which sent the gates splitting open, and bent them backwards so badly that they looked like twisted hunks of metal, rather than the elegant guardian gates that had long been a staple at the Malfoy Manor. The blast rattled the windows, and shook out some of the lights, which Narcissa quickly relit.

"Did he have to do that?"

"Apparently. He's going to have to pay for those," Lucius scowled as the man walked down the path. Draco watched as the chap turned back to the gates, pointed the long, knotted, walking stick at them and shouted something. The gates re-bent themselves back into their original form. The man gave a whistle and something clambered up the gates to the top, then jumped on the man's shoulder.

Lucius went to the door and pulled it open as the man came up the stairs. Draco moved over to his mother and blinked with surprise as the man stepped into the house. He was as tall as Lucius, and was dressed in the oddest outfit Draco had seen, notwithstanding Hagrid.

A large floppy muggle fishing hat with various looking beads, teeth, feathers, and what not, was perched on his head, shielding his face from Draco. He had on a faded salmon colored shirt, and long winter rain coat, with more pockets then Draco could count at a glance. He had on kaki pants, and sandals. A dark green knapsack was on his back, and the long stick looked like some badly carved tree branch. On the man's shoulder perched a strange looking creature that Draco had only seen in a book on Beasts that his father had. With mottled green skin, two small horns, large eyes, and a red bulge on its forehead, the creature looked like a cross between a frog and a monkey. Its tail was wrapped around the man's neck and it seemed to have a perpetual grin on its face.

_He has a Clabbert?_ Draco thought, _but__those are in__North America. Where on earth did he get one?_

Lucius had a forced thin lipped smile on his face. The man though let out a chuckle as he spoke.

"Lucius, you look positively dreadful. Didn't happen to eat a vomit flavored bean did you?"

"Certainly not," Lucius said, staring down at the man, whom Draco figured had to be Driscoll. His voice was, well…jovial, with a melodic sound to it, as if the man had laughed his whole life.

"May I come in?" Driscoll asked, and Lucius moved aside to allow his cousin full entrance. Stepping in, the younger man removed his hat, which was attached about his neck with a string, and let it fall back. Draco stared at what he saw. Driscoll looked very much like his father, but not quite the same.

His hair was a darker blonde, with hints of brown that made it look a bit like hay, and bangs that hovered just above his eyes that he brushed away with his hand. His skin was a tan color, showing signs of being in a slightly tropical climate and making Lucius look far paler then he really was. Draco noted that he had sharp dark green eyes, and laugh lines, with dimples and a bright smile, making him appear quite young. Driscoll looked around and laughed.

"My, my, you certainly haven't changed anything since Uncle Ax died, have you."

Lucius sneered some, "My father's name was Abraxas, as you well know Driscoll."

"Sorry, sorry, but he never did like me much, did he," laughed the younger man who turned and looked at the clabbert as it chattered something at him. He patted it on the head and smiled, "Spinks, behave yourself. This is family."

The clappbert went quiet, but still kept looking around. Driscoll grinned. "Pardon him; he's excited to be out of the hotel. He was pretty good on the plane though."

"The plane," Narcissa asked and Driscoll nodded.

"Airplane, muggles use them for traveling from country to country. Rather fun to ride on, except for people who get air sick." He set down the bag and shook Lucius's hand. "You're looking better than I thought."

"What do you mean?" Lucius asked actually thrown by his cousin's comment. Driscoll just smiled and patted the elder Malfoy on the cheek.

"Still pale as a ghost though, you really should get some sun, Lucius."

Lucius scowled as Driscoll moved over to Narsissa and bowed to her, taking her hand up in a sweep that Draco didn't expect from the man. It clearly betrayed his Pureblood heritage and upbringing. He smiled at Draco's mother gently.

"You still look as beautiful as when I first met you." He kissed her hand and Narcissa pulled it away after a second.

"Thank you," she said and Draco gazed between them. His movement caught Driscoll's attention, and he glanced over at Draco.

"And you must be Draco! My god, you've grown so much! As strapping as your father, you have his eyes, but you have your mother's features."

Draco nodded slowly and looked at his father as if to ask what to do. Driscoll held out his hand and Draco shook it, mentally noting to scrub it later. Driscoll smiled.

"Well then, I suppose I should put my things away."

Lucius nodded curtly, "Draco, show your cousin to his room, if you please. We'll be having supper at seven Driscoll, please do dress appropriately."

Driscoll was half way up the steps with Draco, "What? You mean I can't wear my old purple tuxedo?"

Draco snorted looking at the faces his parents were making, covered it with a cough and tried to be serious. Driscoll pouted, "Such a pity. Really Lucius, you need to relax some, you'll look like you're seventy before you turn fifty."

Draco quickly shoved their guest up the stairs before his father could reach for his wand, his mother was holding his father's arm as they disappeared around the corner. Draco walked slowly, every now and again coughing to get Driscoll's attention, as the man kept examining various things, and nearly tipping them over. Draco now understood why his father had placed everything in the center of the tables, just so that they didn't fall and break.

"You're room is up here," Draco said stopping by the door and Driscoll peeked up.

"What? The tower?"

Draco nodded, worried that the man would make a fuss, but inside he just beamed.

"Heh, Lucius remembers things, doesn't he? I'm surprised he gave me my old room."

Draco looked confused as Driscoll went up the stairs and he followed. The man laughed happily as he looked about the simple room. "Perfect!" He threw his bag on the dresser, and the clabbert jumped onto the wardrobe. It chattered as he pulled a wand from the stick. He grinned at Draco as he spoke.

"Apple, eleven and three quarters, I think it's a Unicorn's hair in the center, slightly springy, and good for charms."

Draco watched as he quickly unpacked and pulled out three, neatly wrapped gifts. Driscoll pulled off his coat and threw it on the bed along with the hat, revealing he had just been wearing a tank top underneath. Draco stared, on Driscoll's right bicep was a tattoo of a strange looking snake with wings that seemed to be flying around his arm, and affixed to his left shoulder was a Narcissus flower that was blowing in an unknown breeze, connected to apple blossoms.

Driscoll's hair was pulled back in a loose tail and he glanced over his shoulder at his cousin smiling. "Heh, um, got those when I was in a slightly upset mood, or at least I did with the Occamy." He pointed to the snake, "The flower thing, I've had since fifth year in Hogwarts."

Draco nodded, not really caring. "I'll be going then."

"Continuing seventh year this year," Driscoll asked as he unloaded a dress shirt and a jacket. Draco paused and shook his head.

"I'm not going back."

Driscoll was shaking out the jacket, "Pity. I would have thought you'd have wanted to."

"Why bother," Draco said and crossed his arms. He didn't see why this was any of this man's business. "It's not like I need to take the N.E.W.T.S."

"Heh, that's what I thought too; Funny how things work out."

Draco frowned, "What do you mean?"

Driscoll looked over at Draco and smiled softly. It was strange seeing such a look on his father's face. Lucius never smiled like that, and it gave Draco the feeling he was being mocked or pitied. He didn't like it.

"I mean, life has a weird way of working out. All the plans we make can be screwed up in one moment of a loose tongue, or not thinking things through." Driscoll explained as he pulled out a long black scarf.

"So what? Like I said I don't need to take them."

Driscoll smirked, "And you think your family will have money forever?"

Draco scowled, "Our fortune has sustained us for centuries, Mr. MacClellan."

"Professor, actually," Driscoll said still smiling, "And it's amazing, I'm looking at myself. Scary."

Draco gave a huff, the man was clearly mental. "Excuse me I'm leaving."

"McGonagall said she thought you'd be one of the few who would have sense enough to come back, I guess though you're as stubborn as your mother's sister." Driscoll said, and Draco stopped dead. He looked over his shoulder and walked back.

"You were talking to McGonagall?"

Driscoll nodded, "Just this morning. That's why I was late. Went to pay last respects and all," he set down the scarf. "It was so odd seeing him up there. But I have to say those portraits have a good eye for perfecting features. I'm glad to see he was smiling in it."

"Who was?"

"Dumbledore, of course!" Driscoll smiled brightly. "Oh, you probably haven't seen the portrait. It's quite a well captured likeness."

"I…I don't want to see it!" Draco stated and then turned to go, stopped only by a strong hand gripping his shoulder. Driscoll was looking down at him in a way that reminded Draco of his father, but there was warmth to the younger man's eyes that Draco had not seen in Lucius until his father had been toppled off his pedestal.

"Draco, you need to finish, if not for your family then for yourself. The world is changing, and sometimes we have to change with it."

Draco pushed off his hand. "Who do you think you are? What do you want with me?"

"Want? With you? Nothing honestly," Driscoll said and crossed his arms. "With the new Headmistress on the other hand, I want a chance to prove that I would be a good Deputy Headmaster."

"Good! Knock yourself out, for all I care," Draco snapped. He thought of what Driscoll had just said and his brows furrowed, "You're working there?"

"At Hogwarts? Yes! I'm taking over Transfiguration," Driscoll said with a dramatic turn, looking away from Draco. "Or at least applying for that, if not, then Ancient Runes. Poor Professor Babbling, the whole fight took a toll out of her," he looked at Draco and smiled some, "So I applied, and I've got a chance to have either position. But I have to say, it's going to be sad not being able to get such a wonderful tan like I can in Hawaii."

Draco looked utterly confused, "Wait, you're a teacher?"

He nodded, "Yes, I'll explain everything at dinner. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to actually go over my mail."

From inside the bag he pulled several letters. Draco nodded politely and headed down the stairs, bemused by the man that was now resting in the tower. He didn't quite get what Driscoll had meant about his father, and what was up with the tattoos, but he figured he was just an oddball, and that he would only have to put up with him for the night.

Draco slipped into his room to rest. He found some old letters from Theodore, and started to read them. His mind slipped back to when he started Hogwarts, and soon enough he was fast asleep. His dreams always started out well, being surrounded by friends, and encircled by several of the girls at the Yule ball. That's when things always went bad. He'd turn to talk to Pansy, only to discover that she wasn't there, and he was face to face with a Death Eater.

"You failed us Draco," the Death Eater would say as he approached Draco. Draco would back up feeling fear grip his chest, and then his hand would touch something that felt like a cloak. Turning he would find that the room was covered by them. Eyes would stare out from behind the harsh looking masks, and Draco would try to run from them but they would follow as he went up the shifting stairs.

"No…No! It wasn't me…I didn't…" he was babbling as several people he knew that had died in his sixth year appeared before him calling him a killer. Draco twitched in his sleep. "No…Please!"

He would look around frantically for someone to help him. Draco would run, trip and fall to the ground, only to look up to see a giant snake come at him, while Snape stood nearby, watching him.

"Professor please…Help me!" he'd scream, but Snape would just give him a look of distain.

"Why should I help someone like you, when I could help Potter? You were always weak Draco; you'll never be seen as anything but weak."

"No, no I'm not!" He cried out as he looked around and saw Dumbledore. "Sir, Headmaster!"

Dumbledore did not move, and Draco rushed over to him calling out. As he got close though he found it was just a painting and that he was trapped.

"He can't help you here, Draco," chuckled a dark voice behind the Snake and Draco looked up to see Voldemort standing over him. The snake suddenly twisted up around Draco and lifted him up to be face to face with Voldemort. Tears welled in Draco's eyes as he struggled to free himself form the grasp of the snake.

"Don't…Don't hurt my father! He didn't mean to fail you!"

"No…no…not your father…I'll kill your mother…through you…she shall be punished!" Voldemort said, and then before Draco's eyes he saw Voldemort transform to have his face only to say, "Now we are the same Draco…"

Draco felt his face and found his nose missing, and looked at the ground which was now a black reflective mirror and saw staring back was the mirror image of Voldemort. He screamed as the glass broke, the snake dropped him, and he fell through the shattered floor into the opening jaws of a huge Basilisk. Voldemort's laughs echoed as he fell.

"Your punishment my servant…"

Draco screamed again, and found himself on the floor with a voice calling out to him.

"Draco…Draco! Wake up! Draco, please! Wake up!"

He opened his eyes and saw his mother staring down at him. Draco bit his lip and sat up as his mother hugged him. At the door Lucius and Driscoll were watching. Both looked rather perturbed by the scene.

Seven could not come fast enough for Draco after that. He walked about the house, trying to shake off the nightmare. He found his way into the garden where the witch had set out the plates for dinner and his mother was talking in a low voice to their guest. Draco had to look twice at Driscoll to be sure he was the same man. He was dressed in an elegant suit, with a black scarf around his neck and a silver pin that held it in place. His hair was neat and the long black cloak he had on looked brand new. If he hadn't have seen the man hours before, Draco would have thought that this was his twin.

Approaching he caught pieces of their conversation, though he didn't mean to…at least not at first.

"How long has it been going on Cissy?"

"I told you this isn't your concern, his father and I…"

"Can handle it…you keep saying that, but I saw what you did. He's having nightmares, and it could get worse."

"And what would you have us do? Send him to St. Mungo's?"

"No, but I know that Odessa…"

"Ha, that woman thinks she knows so much; Why; Just because she happened to travel the world?"

"I don't mean…" he shook his head gently."Cissy, he's a good boy. You know that, he deserves a clean start."

"And Lucius doesn't!"

"I never said that!" he seemed to flush. She scowled at him.

"You implied it. You've always implied…"

"I'm not here to talk about the past, Cissy. Please. Let me help. You let Severus help you."

"That was my business," she spat. "Not yours."

"I have every right to care about the boy too, he is my cousin…and may soon be my pupil."

Hiding in a bush Draco moved closer to hear better, however, when he stepped on a small branch the crack alerted the two adults. Driscoll waved his wand and Draco suddenly was pulled towards them. He was set on his feet and looked at his mother who did not look leased to see him. Driscoll smiled and laughed.

"Well, what do you know; you can Accio a constellation, Cissy."

Narcissa did not find it funny and took Draco by the arm, leaving Driscoll to watch their backs. Draco glanced at his mother as he spoke, "Mother, what was…"

"Nothing…you heard nothing Draco."

"Were you talking about me?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"Why?"

She paused when they got near the table. Narcissa looked at her son gently. "I'm worried about you Draco, these dreams. They keep getting worse. But your father and I will find some way of dealing with it."

He nodded, and looked over her shoulder at Driscoll who was twirling his wand like a baton shooting out a stream of silver and gold stars. The older man glanced at him and gave him an amused smile; Draco did not return it and instead glanced at his mother, kissing her cheek.

"I know you will mother. Where's father?"

"He's speaking with Officer Attwood," she sighed, "a surprise visit."

_Attwood?_ The name was familiar, and he heard two voices coming down the path.

"I assure you Mr. Malfoy; this is merely to make sure that you're protected."

"More to make sure we stay in our cage," spat Lucius as he rounded the corner with a man that looked familiar to Draco. He had sandy blonde hair, cut short, and had cool hazel eyes. He was dressed in Magical Law Enforcement robes, with a special band on the arm, and medal on the front which denoted he was a high ranking member. The officer looked serious, and walked at a brisk pace with Lucius as he spoke.

"It is nothing of the sort. Sir, we're doing our best to keep you and your family safe. This is simply to see who it is that is visiting."

"A relation," was all Lucius would offer. Officer Attwood looked annoyed.

"Yes you keep telling me that, but you offer no names, which I need."

"Well, unfortunately I'm not in a mood to cooperate."

Attwood was about to say something when he saw Draco and Narcissa standing there watching. He glanced from them to Lucius and back.

"Officer Attwood, this is my wife, Narcissa, and my son, Draco."

Attwood tipped his head to Narcissia and Draco. He looked at the boy for a moment then smiled. "Did you happen to meet my son and daughter a few days ago, young man?"

Draco stared, "And they would be?"

Attwood looked a bit disappointed, "Nasser and Elysia."

Draco shrugged, "I may have. I ran into a few old students of Slytherin."

Attwood nodded some, "Well thank you then." He looked back at Lucius. "Now about your guest Mr. Malfoy, I simply must meet him, if only briefly."

"I don't see how that really is your concern. I thought I explained this, he's only here for the night." Lucius once more said as Driscoll made his way over to the small group.

"Cousin is there a problem?" he asked and looked at Attwood, then gave a smile. "Officer Attwood, how pleasant to meet you, I heard much about you from Miss Bones, tragic that we lost her so soon."

They shook hands and Attwood nodded, "And you are?"

"Professor Driscoll Pomeroy Andrew Hadrian MacClellan, formally of the Kanaloa school of Sorcery in the United States, Western division, a branch of the Salem Academy, I'm working for Hogwarts now as the Ancient Ruins teacher. Well, technically not yet, but you know how paper work goes. You said your children are students there?"

"Yes. Syltherin and Ravenclaw, respectively."

Driscoll beamed and put his hand on Attwood's back, "Wonderful, I can't wait to meet them this year."

Attwood nodded slowly and then looked to Lucius, "He's your guest?"

Lucius nodded, "Unfortunately, yes. He is. Now Officer, we were just going to have dinner, so if you wouldn't mind?"

"Oh, right, well then, I'll be looking up on your references, Professor MacClellan." Attwood nodded, and Driscoll smiled kindly, assuring the officer that he could just talk to Headmistress McGonagall and all would be well. Draco held his breath till his father was gone then looked at his mother as Driscoll commented.

"I take it you met them not so long ago?" He looked at Draco who said nothing and pulled out a chair for his mother. He decided that he wasn't going to give Driscoll an inch, and ignored the question at hand to sit in his own chair. Lucius returned after a while, tightly gripping his stick and sat down. He glanced at his wife who motioned over the servant, as Driscoll took some bread and passed it down.

"Charming man," Driscoll said in a way that implied he was trying to rattle Lucius. "Does he come over often?"

"Not as much as others have before him, but yes, he does."

"Ah, well you must, I'm sure, have him bring his family next time I visit."

"That won't be for quite a while," Lucius commented. Driscoll paused his munching and quipped.

"Oh it won't? Well I suppose December will be a few months off…"

Lucius paused, "Cousin, I assure you, you will not be coming here for holiday."

"Oh; and why is that?"

"Because I say so," Lucius hissed in a low voice and looked at his wife. Driscoll contented himself to pulling apart his bread and eating it carefully. Draco watched the man taking in the odd mixture of traits he was showing. On the one hand his elbows were on the table; on the other he was cautiously eating in a way that no crumbs fell on to his robes. He was an odd duck, and Draco wasn't sure how to make heads or tails of him.

"Oh, I see," he drawled idly playing with the crust, turning it around with the tips of his fingers, "well I suppose I'll just have to post your gifts."

There was a long silence as the four ate their food then Narcissa remarked, "So you've been working in America then?"

Driscoll nodded, "That's where I got Sprinks, he was brought there by a visiting professor from Florida, but the poor old man couldn't keep up with him. So I said I would take him, and we've become quiet the pair of friends."

"I see," Lucius commented, "And what made you move back from there?"

"Oh, just got letters from friends, telling me about what's been happening here." He bit into his stake after he said, "Voldemort's defeat has been all over the world, you know."

Lucius flinched some, "You-know-who."

"I know who, what?"

"Call him You-know-who."

Driscoll gave a half smile, "Oh dear, are you going on with that Abbott and Costello routine again, Lucius."

"The what?" Draco asked, and Driscoll beamed.

"It's an old Muggle act; they were a pair of comedians that did a routine where one would play a reporter, the other the manager of a muggle Baseball team. The players on the team have odd last names, like Who, What, Where, and so forth. So every time the reporter asks about the players, the Manager answers the question, but, because the reporter doesn't know that the last names are strange, he gets completely confounded with it. It's really quiet amusing. Your father would fall over laughing when I used to play it for him when I'd come to visit."

Lucius glared at his cousin as Draco raised an eyebrow at his father.

"Only I never told him it was muggle comedy, but he still found it amusing." Driscoll laughed, "You know, for a while, when I came here to visit, I used to get him to pretend our names were Who and What just to annoy the House elves, and that tutor of mine…Ragallini or something like that. Rather funny."

"Yes, hilarious," Lucius sarcastically said as he pushed aside his plate. He looked at his cousin. "Why did you come here Driscoll?"

"Pardon?"

The man stopped eating as Lucius gave him a cold look.

"Why did you come here? It wasn't just for a visit; you never _just_ come for a visit. Now what is it that you really want?"

Driscoll smiled and pulled out the packages that Draco had seen from under the table. He grinned, "To give you these and to talk to you about allowing Draco to return to Hogwarts."

Lucius had been untying the ribbon and glared, "Absolutely not. Do you know what sort of trouble…"

"He'd be perfectly safe, safer then here even. Minervia…I beg pardon, Headmistress McGonagall, has already informed me that there's only been a few students that have agreed to return for their last year, and I think that Draco should be among them."

"What good would it do him? He'd be mocked, and Merlin knows what sort of attacks could be visited upon him…"

Driscoll raised an eyebrow. "Attacks visited upon him? You mean like how he used to do things to other students?"

"That's not the point…" Lucius spat.

"It _is_ the point. By having him stay here it shows that he's still with _them_. It shows that he wasn't willing to stand up."

"I will not have my son be lynched."

"And keeping him here in a cage, as you put it, will do what for him? He needs to get out of here Lucius. He needs to be with people his age, and hopefully find people that are sympathetic to him. He needs friends."

"He has us," Narcissa pointed out. "And there are still people that we associate with. The Nott's for example."

Driscoll sighed, "Cissy, even so…he needs to get outside of the circle that you've always been in."

"Why?" she questioned. "Our families have for years been in good standings with the Ministry and other wizarding families. Draco already knows enough spells and skills to help him along in life."

"Except that he'd still be in that same bubble of familiarity that breeds the problems that cause people like…" Driscoll glanced at Lucius who was glaring at him, and he cleared his throat. "Like You-Know-Who, to come into power. The more Draco learns, the better wizard he is, and if you two intend your family to be seen as something other than, well, what the press has been saying, needless to say he's going to have to come out of this glittering cage for a bit to actually play with other kinds of birds." Driscoll folded his hands and closed his eyes, "A steady diet of the same food leads to boredom. You need a verity to become a well-rounded person, don't you agree Cissy?"

She said nothing and unwrapped her gift. Narcissa paused, slightly surprised, when she found a hand painted box, that, when opened, played a soft tune. She looked up at Driscoll who was paying attention to Lucius.

"Are you not going to open it?"

Lucius looked at the box, and tore off the wrapping to find a very fine looking cloak with small silver and green snakes embroidered on the inside. He raised his eyebrows at Driscoll who was looking at Draco, who had a curious look on his face.

Inside his box Draco discovered four apples. He picked one up and looked at it.

"Apples?"

Narcissa glanced at Driscoll who chuckled. "Yes apples."

Lucius frowned some, "May I speak with you in private Driscoll?"

He stood up throwing the cloak over his arm and looked at his wife as Driscoll stood up to follow. The younger man bowed to Narcissa and then smiled at Draco mouthing, "Think about it."

Draco watched them go and looked to his mother who looked rather flustered. Draco got up quietly, "I'll go to my room."

She nodded putting the box away and glanced at the apples. "What do you think he means by that Draco?"

Her son shrugged, "I'm not sure. Maybe he just thinks I need to eat more to get color in my face, like he said to father."

For a fleeting second he caught his mother smiling, but it vanished, and Draco felt a bit lighter. At least he knew his mother could still smile. He took the box off the table, slipped it under his arm, and headed down the path, intending to put the apples in the kitchen for the witch to use later. Walking through the back entrance, Draco had set the box on a small counter, when he heard heated voices coming from the parlor.

"I'm telling you it will be safer there, then here, Lucius." Driscoll was insisting as his father paced the floor.

"He is my son, Driscoll, and I will decide where he's safe!" Lucius challenged. The younger man had his arms crossed and watched Lucius with a furrowed brow.

"You're being stubborn now cousin. I'm just trying to protect the boy…"

"From what? The others cannot get near this house without the ministry…" Lucius started.

"They know where you are, they know that he can wander freely. Lucius, the boy is a target. You and I both know it. Can't you see that Hogwarts is safer then out there? The Death Eaters are still on the loose. Dumbledore…"

"His protection, whatever it was, is gone!"

"No, thanks to Potter it's not."

"What are you talking about?" Lucius spat looking more annoyed then before. Draco stayed quiet and hid behind a wall watching the two men. His father and cousin looked like two tall birds of prey circling one another, pecking over some fallen piece of meat. Driscoll scowled.

"I'm talking about the fact that he, Harry Potter, went to Voldemort willingly…"

"Would you not use that name in this house." Lucius growled, and Driscoll frowned.

"Would you rather I use Tom Riddle, would that help you?"

"Neither name! I don't want to hear about this Driscoll, I was there! I saw what the man did. The boy…"

"Went willingly! He DIED that night Lucius, or a part of him did. He gave up his life willingly for the people in the castle. Lucius, think! Draco was in that castle, the spell that Harry cast, the fact that he loves that castle, it's his home…he put protection on there that the Death Eaters know nothing about. Draco is better there then he is here!"

Lucius curled his lips, and grabbed his cloak, then walked briskly out of the room. Driscoll sighed, and sat down in a chair. He ran a hand through his bangs and caught a glimpse of Draco trying to sneak up the stairs.

"So how do you like your gift?"

Draco stopped and gave him a nod, "It's…different."

Driscoll smiled as he got up walking past Draco and went to the box pulling out one. Draco watched as his cousin examined it and then headed for the stairs. "Going up to bed too?"

"Actually I was going to send a letter to someone I know." Draco explained and watched Driscoll carefully. The man nodded and motioned for him to follow. Draco raised his eyebrows, and cocked his head. Driscoll grinned.

"I promise I'll explain the gift, Draco."

He considered it a moment, and then Draco followed Driscoll up the stairs. In the old tower room the older man set the apple on his dresser and took off his long frock jacket, and shoes, slipping them into a pair of fuzzy blue slippers, and tossed the apple to Draco.

Driscoll drew up a chair for Draco, who sat, and stared at the man now perched on the sagging bed. He waited to see if Driscoll would fall through, but either he'd been mistaken on how weak the bed really was or Driscoll had enchanted it so that it wouldn't fall under his weight, because the bed stayed perfectly intact.

"So what do you make of it?"

"Make of what? These apples?"

Driscoll nodded and ticked off his fingers, "And the box and the cloak. Do you think your parents really like them?"

Draco shrugged, "I suppose. But what's the point in giving me fruit. There's not much I can do with them except eat them."

Driscoll burst out laughing, and Draco reddened slightly, brows furrowed.

"I don't see what's so funny."

His cousin chortled, "Just your attitude about this. Are you always this simple minded when it comes to gifts?"

Draco grimaced and got up to go. He wasn't going to sit there and be insulted. Driscoll smiled and waved his wand, sending the chair to retrieve his wayward cousin and set Draco back before him. Draco looked furious.

"Let me go!"

"No, I think not. Consider this my first lesson," Driscoll told him. He leaned on the brass foot board and looked at Draco.

"And will I be receiving more of these _lessons_, cousin?" Draco asked sardonically as he tried to get up again, but found that the chair moved with him. After a few moments he shouted, "This is outrageous! Why are you keeping me here?"

"So that you calm down and think," admitted Driscoll watching him. He sat up as he waved the wand to open the window for some breeze and walked over to look out. Draco struggled for several moments, but the chair refused to allow him to get up and stuck right to him so he couldn't stand up straight. Reluctantly he settled down, realizing that Driscoll wasn't about to let him up until he listened. So he crossed his legs, and his arms, and stared at the man with lowered eyelids waiting for his speech.

"Draco, what do you know about apples?"

"Not much, they're for eating, they come from America, and apparently your sister Alana is allergic, or so my mother says. What's your point?"

A slightly ironic smile slipped on Driscoll's face, and he looked back at Draco, "What about their appearance Draco?"

"It's red."

"And?"

"And what? It's a red apple! So what!" the younger man sighed as he gave up for a second time in struggling to get out of the chair. There had to be a way to trick it to let him up. He relaxed and tried to slide out, but it just moved with him and he let out a scream of annoyance through clenched teeth. It was insufferable.

Driscoll was still by the window watching and chuckling, "Now don't go getting upset at the chair it's just doing its job."

"It's job! It's keeping me here like some sort of pet!" Draco spat. "Who cares about what an apple looks like? They're all the same on the outside."

There was a crack and Draco found himself ducking, and glanced over to the wardrobe which was now tottering some. Driscoll smiled and Draco stopped moving all together, worried that his cousin would use some jinx on him. However Driscoll just walked over and nodded.

"Are they all the same on the outside?" He took the apple and held it up to Draco.

Draco shrugged somewhat, he'd play this game if it meant he could get out of the chair.

"I suppose," he said and was tossed the apple.

"Examine it. Really look at it."

Driscoll paced around the room as Draco sighed and did so. He ran his fingers over the surface and saw that there were a few blemishes up close, the skin felt hard at points and soft at others. He looked back at Driscoll, "So it's a bit different up close. What's the point in this."

"How about inside?"

Draco blinked, "Inside? Well it's just fruit."

Driscoll waved his wand and cut the apple in half revealing an odd shape. Draco was examining it, so he did not see Spinks coming in with another apple and Driscoll petted the green clappbert. He sliced this one too, and handed half to Draco.

"See if they fit."

Draco looked at the half and made a face, "This one has spots inside it."

"Yes, but see if it fits."

Draco sighed and handed over one half of his apple to Driscoll and took one that Driscoll had in his hands. Then he placed the two different halves together, he wasn't surprised to see they fit.

"They're a match. So?"

Driscoll did the same and smiled, "So they once more look the same on the outside, but they're different on the inside aren't they?"

"Sure, fine, they're different on the inside. What's the point?"

Driscoll sat down, "That is the point. People are always going to see you as a mini version of your father. They see you and they see Lucius. His eyes, his face, his pale skin, but inside you're more like your mother."

Draco scowled, "Are you trying to insult me? What's wrong with looking like my father?"

Driscoll shrugged, "Nothing, I suppose, except that his past makes of things difficult for those of us who share his features. Why do you think I moved to America?"

"To get away from the family?" snorted Draco giving him back the apple halves and Driscoll laughed grinning at his younger cousin.

"Good point, but not quite accurate," he pushed his bangs aside. "When I graduated I tried to get a job, but people saw me and thought I'd be like your father. Stubborn, haughty at times, because I look a lot like him; So I had to go somewhere where the name Malfoy doesn't have as much influence."

Draco sniffed, "Why would you do that?"

Driscoll poked him in the chest. "To be judged by what's in here rather then what's out here." He patted Draco on the cheek, much to the younger man's annoyance, and sat back putting the apples right and sealing them once more. "Your father and I used to be more alike than just in looks. We held a lot of the same beliefs, but, time changes things. People grow and mature, which I think is happening with you."

He looked kindly at Draco, "Draco, I can see your mother in you so much, it's a bit scary to me. I'm saying this as your cousin, and also as someone who understands what you're going through…"

"How can you understand," Draco hissed, "You don't wake up with night terrors."

Driscoll nodded, "No, I don't. But I knew people that did. People that I respected and I don't want you having to deal with what they've dealt with."

He was looking Draco in the eyes, and the younger man got the sense that he was peering farther into him. Draco shifted some.

"I want you to have a chance to show your insides to the world."

Draco paused and saw the serious look on Driscoll's face, then covered a laugh with a hard cough. "My what? That's disgusting."

The older man chuckled, "Quite, now that I think about it."

Draco looked at him curiously, "Why do you care what I do with my life? You don't know me, so what do you get out of this?"

"Like I told you, I don't get anything from you, but from someone else, and for that person I would give my life." Driscoll said and slipped off the bed, releasing Draco from the enchanted chair. Draco stood up rubbing his wrist out of habit from sitting in the brace chair in the Wizengamot. He looked at Driscoll as the older man smiled.

"Will you come with me tomorrow to Hogwarts?"

"Why are you going there?" Draco asked as Driscoll pulled something out of his bag.

"To firstly, to see if I got the job, secondly, if I did get the job I need to give my text list to the Headmistress so that she can let Flourish and Blott's know which to stock, and third, to give you a chance to see that the school needs you back there Draco. The Slytherin's are going to need someone to act as their leader, considering that most are well under the age of fifth year. You know how older students can be…"

Draco scowled some but gave a curt nod.

"As I told Nott, I'd think about it. I'm not promising…"

Driscoll grinned, he seemed not to hear him, "Wonderful, see you bright and early tomorrow!"

He shoved his cousin out of the room and Draco yelped as the stairs became a slide and deposited him out in the hallway. Draco stood up and shouted up the stairs, which had now converted back, "You prat!"

He heard Driscoll laugh, and slammed the door. Storming to his room Draco threw himself onto the bed and was surprised to see a Scopes owl sitting on his sill. He knew it wasn't Theodore's, Nott only used his uncle's old barn owl, so he approached the orange eyed owl carefully. Opening the window the bird landed on a chair in his room and Draco walked over, and noticed a small rolled up piece of paper.

He unrolled it and stared a bit stunned at the short note.

_Draco,_

_Hope to see you sometime again at the snack shop._

_Next time, try to remember me._

_Elysia_

_P.S. __Nasser __says that your cousin seems a bit eccentric._

Draco felt a strange smile escape his lip, and shoved the piece of paper in his draw. He picked up the owl and took him to the window, then let it go. He watched it fly off and lay down on the bed.

"Weirdo," he muttered before he drifted off to a light sleep.


End file.
